


The Duke's Locksmith

by Lisafer



Category: Emelan - Tamora Pierce, The Circle Opens - Tamora Pierce
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-11
Updated: 2013-05-11
Packaged: 2017-12-11 13:22:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/799206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lisafer/pseuds/Lisafer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is just a beginning... a possibility of an AU based on the notion that the Circle of Magic features magics that do not mesh with the characters' original lives.  So what happens when they're all mixed, and they have magic that suites their original lifestyles?  Enter Trisana Chandler, the metal-mage artisan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Duke's Locksmith

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kit](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kit/gifts).



The metal-mage was ushered into Duke’s Citadel with welcoming words – she wasn’t quite accustomed to kindness outside of House Chandler, and even those were rare these days. Discovering her craft had brought back some of the affection lacked in childhood, after years of melting locks and jewelry scalding sensitive flesh every time she was brought to anger, but the Chandler family still held themselves at bay when it came to Tris.

“Trisana Chandler?” The duke’s voice was rich and velvety, laced with power and confidence. It reminded her of mead, and the way it slid down her throat, both thick and thin at the same time.

“Your grace,” she curtseyed. “You must have a serious problem if you’d request me all the way from Capchen.”

“My usual smith has left Summersea for travels through Namorn – it seems like all the important people in my life have been heading to Namorn these days – and I have a difficult problem for you to solve.” He gestured toward two chairs by the fireplace, and they sat. “There’s a master thief new to Summersea, robbing my merchants and nobles blind, and very few locks can keep him out.”

Tris raised one eyebrow. “You need a magical lock to protect your crown jewels?” 

He seemed to flush, but it might have been a trick for the firelight. “A magic lock is too simple,” Vedris said. “This thief can weave – and unweave – pure magic. Even the dedicates at Winding Circle have never seen anything like it. Dedicate Frostpine was the only smith great enough to create a non-magical lock of such complexity to stop this man, but then I thought of your craftwork.” He pulled a tiny clockwork elephant from his pocket – one of Tris’s own creations – and wound it up, leaving it to walk across the floor. “Certainly a lock is easier than this genius.”

Tris flushed this time; she’d been crafting all sorts of mechanical metalworks in the last few years, but her prickly nature left her with few compliments. At least, few that were addressed directly to her. “That was made with magic, your grace.”

“Please, just call me Vedris,” he said. His lack of formality in address matched his very simple – yet elegant – attire. 

“I would like to help you,” Tris began, “but I may be limited without using magic.”

“Unless your magic is complex enough to thwart this thief. Niklaren Goldeye has heard about you, and would like to help.”

“I work alone,” she said with a scowl. She’d met enough mages at Lightsbridge to steer her away from the rest. “I’m told you keep a mage in your household – is it this Goldeye fellow?”

“No. My grand-neice. After completing her education with Dedicate Crane at Winding Temple, she decided to travel. Her cousin has need of a plant-mage of her abilities, so Sandrilene left n the fastest, most efficient Trader ship to sail the Sith. She likes their talented _mimander_.”

Tris had no need for gardeners – even those with magic. Especially a noblewoman who traveled with Traders. It was better if the girl was out of the way. “I’ll need time.”

“And payment,” Vedris said, with a small smile. He clearly knew House Chandler’s reputation among merchants.

“But mainly time.”

“You’re welcome to stay here while you work,” he said. “I think I’ll enjoy having company.”

It was her nature to be skeptical and cautious, but there was something about this man that made her wonder if he was honest. Maybe he was lonely – his niece traveling, his wife long dead, according to the rumors. She could understand loneliness.


End file.
